I nod, letting the purity of those words soak through me. Because when you get right down to it, today and every day, that's all that really matters. "Okay," I say, tightening my fingers around his. "Let's go."
We go together to the door, and I straighten my posture before reaching for the handle. I'm not particularly tall and that rarely bothers me. But sometimes I want all the ammunition I can get to feel stronger and more confident, and right then a few extra inches would have made me happy. Too bad we were doing this casual. Otherwise, I could have worn stilettos.
I flash a quick practice smile, then open the door to reveal Ethan and my father. Ethan rushes forward, wrapping me in a tight hug. "Missed you, Silly," my brother says, and I grin happily at the ridiculous nickname.
"You saw me last week," I remind him, laughing.
"Fair enough," he says as he pulls back and moves to shake Jackson's hand. "The truth is I miss my niece and nephew. Oh! There he is," he says, looking over Jackson's shoulder at Stella, who has entered the foyer with Jeffery.
Ethan claps Jackson on the shoulder, then bolts past him to gather up the baby, leaving my father lingering on the threshold.
"Douglas," Jackson say, extending his hand. "It's so good to see you. Come on in."
He enters slowly, and I can't help but notice how much more frail and unsteady he seems, as if he's aged disproportionately to the years. He pauses in front of me, and his arms move forward to hug me, but then he hesitates and pulls them back, obviously unsure. I step up, then wrap my arms awkwardly around him. "I'm really glad you're here, Daddy," I say, my voice tinny with emotion.
I release him and step back, grateful when Jackson's arm goes around my shoulder.
In front of me, my father shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Me too."
With a start, I realize that my mother isn't here. "Didn't Mom come?"
"Yeah, well..." He swallows. "She told Ethan she just wanted to see me at home." His expression is as gentle as I've ever seen it when he adds, "Don't blame her. I think she's emotionally exhausted."
I nod, because the tightness in my chest prevents actual speech. Jackson squeezes my shoulders in silent, stalwart support. It's such a little thing, but I'm so damn grateful. If nothing else, Jackson makes me feel loved.
The truth is, I don't know why I expected she'd come. My guess is that she backed out once Ethan told her about the celebration at my house. Because ever since Ethan got sick--ever since Daddy raised the money for his treatment by hiring me out to Reed on the pretense of being a studio model for his photographs--my mother has treated me as a non-entity.
Nice to know some things never change.
The silence hangs awkwardly between us. After a moment, my dad glances around. "Looks like you and Jackson have built a nice life."
Perhaps it's my imagination, but I think I hear hope in his voice. Like maybe the fact that I have a beautiful home and an amazing husband and wonderful children exonerates him.
I feel myself tense, and I hear Jackson's voice in my head telling me to just tell him the truth.
I know I should--in fact, I'm searching for the words to do just that--when I hear a car door slam behind us and then the patter of little feet on the walkway. "Grandpa!"
My father's face changes in a heartbeat. All hesitation gone. Worry erased. Fear extinguished. There's nothing but joy now.
Even his body seems lighter, and he bends down with a grace he hadn't displayed when he'd entered the house just a few moments before.
Ronnie races past me into the house as Cass's voice drifts in after her, her tone ironic as she says, "We're back."
"Cookies, Grandpa!" Ronnie says, brandishing a tube of slice and bake chocolate chip cookies. "I'm gonna make 'em for you! Wanna watch? Please, please, pretty please?"
"Can't think of anything I'd rather do," he says, looking at her with the utmost sincerity. He enfolds her free hand in his. "Lead the way," he says as he winks at me.
My heart does a little flip-flop, and I watch as they head toward the kitchen, Ronnie skipping happily and chattering nonstop.
And I think that maybe--just maybe--this will all turn out okay.
Chapter 5
++
By six o'clock, everyone has arrived, the sun has set, and our backyard looks like a fairy playground, illuminated by dozens of cleverly placed strings of light. Of all the guests, Jeffery is the only one who has faded. In contrast, Ronnie is twirling in the backyard, showing off for her grandfather in the sparkling lights as Wyatt moves around them with a confident grace. He's in his element, taking candid shots that I'm certain will be hanging on our walls within the week.
I'm in a rocker, moving slowly back and forth, knowing I should go put him in his crib, but I'm too comfortable, and so I content myself by watching Jackson.
He's by the bar with Ethan and Damien, his half-brother. All three of their heads are bent over, and Jackson is sketching something on a cocktail napkin, scratching things out and revising as the other two men comment. I have no idea what they're working on, but I'm struck once again by the striking similarity between Jackson and Damien. The dark hair. The chiseled faces. But mostly it's an attitude. Confidence. Power. Razor-focused ambition.
I'm watching them when Nikki drops into a chair beside me. A former model, she's stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way, and her smile is wide and genuine. She nods toward the men. "My bet's on the moon."
I cock my head, clueless. "The moon?"
"They both have that look. And I don't know Ethan that well yet, but he's looking pretty intense as well. I figure they're up to something. And since between Damien and Jackson, they've pretty much conqu
ered the planet, I'm thinking the moon is their next frontier."
I laugh. "You might have a point. You've got to admit, if Jackson builds a house up there, it would have one hell of a view."
"Jackson's building another house?" Cass asks as she approaches, a glass of wine in one hand and a highball of whiskey in the other. Her hair is purple today, the vibrant hue matching the tail feathers of the exotic bird tattoo that graces her shoulder.
Nikki and I look at each other and grin. "When isn't he?" I ask.
"Good point." She holds out each glass in turn. "Wine or scotch?"
"Scotch," I say. I stopped nursing a few months ago, and while I loved bonding with my son that way, I confess that I'm happy to add alcohol back into my food and drink repertoire.
"You got it." She passes the glass to me and raises a brow in inquiry as she turns to Nikki.
"I'm good," Nikki says, holding up her own glass of red.
"Excellent." Cass takes a long swallow of the wine. "More for me." She looks around, then hustles over to one of the patio chairs and drags it back to us. She sits down, takes another swallow, and grins. "So what are we talking about?"
"Nothing juicy," Nikki says, her mouth quirking ironically. "Guess we're just boring married women. Better watch out, Cass. You'll be joining our ranks soon enough."
Cass and her girlfriend officially got engaged about seven months ago, but so far they haven't set a date for the wedding. Cass tells me it's just because they're both so focused on clearing a path through their crazy-busy work lives, but for the first time in our long friendship, I'm afraid she's not telling me something.
Cass snorts in response to Nikki's assessment. "One," she says holding up a finger, "I'm never boring."
I nod. "The lady has a point."
"Two, I know both of you, remember? Not a whole lot of boring going on there either. And three," she adds, with a wicked grin, "I may not go for the half of our species who sport the Y chromosome, but that doesn't mean I can't assess the value of the merchandise. And ladies? Neither one of you ended up in Dullsville."
Nikki's musical laughter fills the area, and Damien looks up at her and smiles with such adoration and affection that I can't help but sigh. I've seen that same look in Jackson's eyes more times than I can count, and it always melts me.